Scars and Wounds
by TheEvilBunny
Summary: Sometimes, life can only give you as much as what you already have...and that's all you can ask for. Ravencentered Collection of OneShots
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** #no comment#…sorry…just wanted to put an author's note. 

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the character/s of this fic.

I blinked my purple eyes in frustration, trying to force myself to weep tears that were never there and never will be there.

I stared at my arm, closely examining my wrist, which was now stained with crimson red blood. Embossed on my pale skin were vertical scars and wounds. My hand was numb, probably of blood loss, but it wouldn't kill me. Always down the road and never across the street, they said, referring to the way of cutting. It was a good thing I would always wear long sleeved leotards whenever I walked out of my room. Then, they wouldn't have to notice the marks on my wrist. I've hidden my habit for five years, and I don't plan on revealing it either.

I just wish that for one more time, I could cry without any repercussions. With no one getting hurt.

For five years, I hoped that if I'd experience much pain and suffering, and that I would be able to cry once more, and void my powers. Would be able to feel the tears flow down my cheeks and the bitter taste in the back of my tongue without crashing a lampshade. Would be able to sob between my words that no one can barely make out what I'm saying without gasping for air. Would be able to cry because I'm happy without hurting anyone. Would be able to gain people's pity and not their merciless criticisms about me and my…qualities… I wished that for one more time I would cry myself to sleep; I would cry myself out of my biggest problems; I would cry myself into my dreams, and into my deepest desires. Tears worked in so many ways.

I envied my teammates, but most of all, I envied my little Tamaranean friend. She could cry if she wanted to, laugh whenever she felt like it, and say out loud all of her thoughts and questions and no one would blame or laugh at her. I envied her because she was pretty. Her hair was long and sleek, her figure was tall and skinny, and her features were soft. Compared to me, she looked perfect. Many seemed to think so. I envied her because she was happy and joyful. What I'm doing now, she would never do. Oh, I envied her for many more things.

Many said that tears are bottled up emotions that spill out through your eyes. How ironic. I have no emotions. I think…

I slashed my arm even more, the cuts crossing some of the wounds and opening some of the scars.

The blood dripped to the floor, but I still didn't cry. My teeth were gritted and everything around me started to smash themselves into pieces, I didn't care. No. As long as could feel at least on cold tear on my cheek, I would stop. I don't plan to kill myself……….I only plan to slash myself until I wished it would kill me.

I clutched the blade in a tight fist, the blood dripping down my palms. I could cry anytime I want. Tears can flow down my cheeks once more, but that would never happen without the entire Jump City going into chaos.

I can cry if I want to, but I won't because I don't need to.

I'll just settle with scars and wounds; a cut for each frown and a drop of blood for each tear. And for now, that's all I can do, and that's all I can ask for.

**Author's Note:** This is a drabble. Isn't it obvious? Okay…just sort of Raven wanting to do something she can do but won't do because others get punished for it. Yeah, that's it pretty much. There was a hint of what pairing I wanted to talk about. A very tiny hint though. Sadista! You know what I mean!  Oh yeah…and I can't open my email so pretty much everything sucks right now. It's probably clogged with many messages, but nothing beats your record! 


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** I've been reading Edgar Allen Poe lately. So…yeah…just wanted to say so…Weeheeheehee! This is drabble-y…again…some hints of RobRae. I know that it wasn't in raven's point of view, but please, bear with me. I wasn't expecting this to be posted after Scars and Wounds…I was planning to post this as an individual fic, but I realized that they looked as if they were the same, so I just put it under that.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the characters of this fic.

I found myself lying on my bed, awake, again, in the middle of the night. My eyes darted around the room, looking for anything that would catch my attention.

I rolled to my side then pulled my blanket over my head. It was in these times that I felt worthless and alone.

My room was my sanctuary and my home, but why did I feel solitary within those four walls? Yes, there were times when I needed "Raven-time" and my "friends" would still oblige me to come out. How I hated that. Why was it that when I didn't want them to come near me, they would be there because they wanted to be there; but when I needed them the most, they couldn't care less about what I was doing or whether or not I needed them.

No one would dare come and comfort me to tell me that there were no monsters under my bed. No ghosts outside my window. **_No demons in my room._**

It didn't matter to me that I was already at the age of around sixteen, and I still needed someone to ease my fears. Though I had already learned to live alone, I prayed that, for once, someone would be brave enough to come near me.

Through my entire life, I couldn't find anyone, not even my parents who would make me calm when I needed to be calm.

I didn't really expect much from my parents now. I had gotten **_more from my friends._**

My father used me to control the world. My mother knew what I was to become, but didn't even help me. Yes, they said they would nurture and accept me for who I was to be, but they didn't do anything about the prophecy.

My friends, they believed that I could change my destiny. They tried. **_They believed._** And out of everything the world could give me, that was what I needed the most. I needed someone who I would put my faith in and someone who would risk having faith in me, too. I found that person, those people. They were whom the earth people called "friends". The ones I called "teammates". The one I called "leader".

I shut my eyes, not wanting the thought that was passing through my mind. If they were really my friends, they would know me enough to know that I could not have anyone closer to me than a friend; I should also have the initiative to keep them only art arm's length away from me.

At that thought, I couldn't get myself to sleep again. Just the thought that I had no friends, was troubling to think about when I want to get to sleep. It was horrible. To think that everyone around me had always been there, and always will be there, but I can't even get close to them.

It was my curse…my nuisance. A burden to carry for the rest of my life. Just like the scars and wounds that are carved into my skin. Burdens from the curse that was given to me on the day of my birth…I just have to live with it.

To be alive right now, given the pain and trouble and everything else that came with it… that's all I can ask for.

**Author's Note: **nothing else to say but REVIEW! Will not post another chappie if I don't get enough…it's not like it's a cliffhanger…but I think it would be good to al least give an idea of what Raven is going through. It's more like…Through the Looking Glass: Raven Roth. Whatever that is…

REVIEW PLEASE!


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** I'm so sorry I haven't been updating this fic for quite a while. Thank you to all those who reviewed the last chapters!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Teen Titans.

I swallowed hard, keeping my eyes focused on the night sky— the same sky that had once been tinted with different shades of red and orange when her father came to earth. I pursed my lips and tightened my grasp on the blade that rested in my clutched knuckles.

I slashed quickly across my pale arm, writhing in pain. My mouth opened wide, but I could not scream. My heart pounded in my chest, my lips quivered in a suppressed scream. _Breathe in. Breathe out._ I let my head fall back on the edge of my bed. _Breathe in. Breathe out._ I grit my teeth, ready to have another strike at my arm. I slashed once, twice, thrice, then stopped to breathe.

Blood pooled slowly beside my arm. **_His blood_**. My blood.

Why did I have to suffer like this? Why did I have to be born like this? I had no idea what the universe had against me. Out of all the people in the world—the universe, why did he have to be MY father? His blood ran through my veins. His traits, I carried with me. His burden is my burden. His curse is mine to take as well.

I let the blade run down my arm again, slowly, now…but deeper. I groaned in pain, choking on my breaths. Something shattered, but I didn't bother to look what it was. My eyelids began to fall lazily over my eyes. My vision was blurry, but it was still tolerable—for now.

I felt so sorry for myself, for my mother. Did she have to go through all that for me? If only she knew it would be better for both of us if she had let him kill me; if she had just let me go. Then, I wouldn't be so doubtful of my existence; and she wouldn't have gone through all that pain. The universe would have been the same… maybe even better…if I weren't born. I did not hate my mother for giving birth to me, but I hated her for not killing me earlier…I would have done it sooner or later or now. Nevertheless, I respected her, even admired her, for raising me. **_Me_**.

I grit my teeth, and slashed again. How I hated myself for making her go through all that. **_But I was young_**. Youth, itself, cannot be an excuse for making another suffer. I looked away, and sunk the blade into my skin once again.

Not only did my father curse me and my mother, but the world as well. Not only did I carry a curse; I was, **_am_** a curse in itself. I am bound to what I am.

The elders of Azarath hardly qualify as my second parents, even if it had been better if it were that way. But Trigon— I recognized him as my father. I could see resemblances between us, not only how we look, but also how we act, and the way we think. I tried to deny it, but even if I did, it did not change the fact that we were, in many ways, alike.

I am my mother's daughter— brave, and strong; I am my father's daughter— a demon, _alone_. Nevertheless, I knew my parents. They were there. Their blood run though my veins, drip on the floor of my room, stain the blade in my hand…

…and that's all I can ask for.

**Author's Note:** Should I keep using that line at the bottom, cause it works just fine without it? What about the other chapters? What do you guys think?

REVIEW!


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